


Oh, Whoa, Whoa, Jamie's Cryin'

by y3llowdaisi3s



Series: All the Trees Change in the Fall [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy Lewis is Tony Stark's Daughter, Family Fluff, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 09:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/y3llowdaisi3s/pseuds/y3llowdaisi3s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You have to laugh at yourself once in a while, because you’d cry your eyes out if you didn’t” (The Indigo Girls)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, Whoa, Whoa, Jamie's Cryin'

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Challenge #10: Weekly Quick Fic #3 at writerverse.
> 
> Not beta'd

Tony was never very good at the whole crying thing. His dad taught him early on that a Stark _does not_ cry. So at a young age, he decided when something would make a normal person cry. he’d laugh. It was skewed logic at its best, but that was what Tony was best at.

So when his four-year-old daughter had ran into his arms first thing, he was a little worried. He vowed when he found out about the little milkhead that he’d be different from Howard. So if she needed to cry, he’d hold her, and pat her on the back. As long as they didn’t _talk about feelings_ , he could handle it. Mostly. Probably.

“What’s wrong princess?”

“My screw-screwdriver w-was stolen!” The little girl sobbed.

“Don’t you have a few of those?” He asked, picking her up. She wrapped her arms and legs around his torso and hung on tight. “Or you could have one of mine.”

“No,” she shouts into his shoulder. “It was my pur-purple flathead. Auntie Peggie gifted it to me.”

“Well, where did you last see it?” He questioned, pulling her face up by the chin. Kissing her forehead, he walked in the direction of his daughter’s workshop.

“W-workshop.” Her bottom lip wobbled, preparing for another sob.

“Let’s check there first. Maybe the thief left a clue.”

She gasped. “You a genius, daddy.”

“Exactly,” he tapped the tip of her nose. Smiling, he walked into the walk-in closet turned workshop. “Now, where did you last put it?”

Pointing in the direction of the main workbench, Tony perused the spare parts (broken apart toaster, a few remotes from the media room, amongst other things) covering, and practically falling off the space. He put his little girl down and watched as she toddled over to her latest project. He had to smile to himself watching her.

Looking around the room, he caught sight of a blinding purple on the spare workbench pushed against the wall.

“Darce, did you maybe run out of space here and decided to use another workbench?”

Spinning around, the little girl gaped. Her eyes immediately scoped the side of the room, zoning in on the purple sparkled handle. “My screwdriver!” She shouted, throwing a hand over her mouth.

“So it wasn’t stolen?” Tony teased, because his little girl had a flair for the dramatics.

Throwing her hands over her face, she glared at him through her fingers.

“It’s okay little girl. If you can’t laugh at yourself, you’d have to cry. Or something. I don’t know a famous person said something to that effect. The point is. You have to learn to laugh at yourself.”

When she was five, he was woken up in the wee hours by his crying daughter jumping on top of him. Pulling the blanket up, he let her crawl into his arms.

“What’s wrong?”

“Popop went on another rescue mission. Instead of spending the day with me like he was supposed to.”

“Well, Popop is an ass-”

Throwing her hand over his mouth, she shook her head. “You owe me a dollar, daddy.”

Rolling his eyes, he pulled her hand away. “Sure, kiddo. He does that. I’m surprised it took him this long to do that to you. He did it to me all the time, growing up.”

“Well, it’s not very nice of Popop. So I’m going to tell Nana and Auntie Peggie.”

“You do that,” Tony laughed, hugging her close.

Giggling, she pressed her face against his cheek. 

“No more tears?” He asked, wiping at her face with the duvet.

She shook her head then bit her lip. “Tell me some stories about Captain America. Ones that are better than Popop’s.”

“Fine,” he huffed, thinking back to the few times he and his dad spent time together. Laughing at one particular memory, he began to tell Darcy the story of the one time Captain America was shot at by Auntie Peggy.

Tony had to deal with a frightened eight-year-old when Peggy Carter had fallen down and ended up in the hospital. Ever since she found her mom died giving birth to her, she had a tough time dealing with the idea of death.

And after her Nana died in the car crash, Auntie Peggy was the last ‘mother figure’ the little girl had.

Tony had just hired a new PA, the one he named Pepper, and the woman handled his daughter very well. So there was hope. But as the pair sat in the waiting room of the hospital, Darcy with tear tracts rolling down her face, holding the woman tight, Tony wasn’t sure what he could do.

This wasn’t a situation where he could point out her silliness or how mundane the situation was. If he wasn’t a Stark raised by Howard, he’d probably be crying right then too. Instead, he stood at the entryway and watched his daughter cry.

Pepper caught sight of him and gave him a frantic look. Maybe she had problems dealing with tears too?

No problem, it was _his_ kid crying, and Tony knew he wasn’t really paying the PA to deal with her tears.

“Darce,” he muttered, stepping forward.

“Daddy,” she cried out, jumping from her seat into his arms.

“Is she going to be okay?” Pepper asked, standing from her seat.

Rubbing his daughter’s back, he replied, “The doctor’s say she’ll make a full recovery. She just won’t be able to be as active as she was before the fall.”

“You’re sure?” Darcy leaned back, daring him to say otherwise.

“Of course. And it’s up to us to remind Auntie Peggy why it sucks to be old.”

Laughing, Darcy hugged him close. “We’ll have to play laser tag and we can leave Auntie Peggy behind to guard the base. She won’t be allowed to scout anymore,” she smirked.

Shaking her head, Pepper muttered, “You two are crazy.”

The one time Tony wanted to cry with his daughter was when she was eleven and she thought she was dying. The thought of his little girl leaving the world before him brought tears to his eyes.

Then he realized he raised a sarcastic little brat who enjoyed hyperbole liked she liked candy. 

Well, he had the last laugh, or so he thought. She had bled through her pants, and Tony teased her for it.

Her first period was a time for fake tears, and then hearty laughs. Tony got her back for scaring him by refusing to help her (and it wasn’t like he knew what he was doing, he didn’t have the same parts) and kept Pepper busy so that Darcy had to go it alone.

Smart thing that she was, had JARVIS explain it all to her, and she forced Tony to go buy her tampons.

Needless to say, it was a great time to laugh at oneself. Both he and Darcy did so, much to Pepper’s amusement, once she heard the story.

There were times where she would cry and Tony would have to refrain from doing something drastic. He hated it when kids would make fun of her for being smart (he knew how that felt like) but she soldiered on. Would say that it didn’t matter because one day she’d be there boss, and she’d have the last laugh then.

She was a smart kid. And Tony loved her for it.

What was hard was when someone who was supposed to be her friend hurt her. Darcy didn’t really know how to handle it when someone she trusted broke it.

At twelve, her best friend Bobby decided they could no longer be friends. When she asked why, he claimed it was because she was a girl, and his friends made fun of him for being her friend.

It had hurt, and Tony had come home to his daughter crying into her pillow because of the news.

After getting an explanation, he scoffed at it. “Well, isn’t he going to hate himself in a few years. All those guy friends would have wanted to be your friend just to go on a date with you. And I bet you’d make a great wingman, so Bobby is going to have a harder time finding a girlfriend without your help.”

Swiping at her cheeks, Darcy laughed and hugged him close.

And all that made it all the more difficult when Tony found himself actually crying. It was the first time he truly cried since he was seven-years-old. He hadn’t cried at his parents’ funeral, remaining strong for his daughter. But right then and now, the amount of emotion trying to burst through him. All he could do was cry.

“I’d just like to say,” Darcy called out, walking into the room eyeing the screen that was just playing Howard Stark telling his son how he felt. “ _I told you so._ ”

At those words, Tony burst into hysterics. Laughing so much he found it difficult to breathe. He pulled Darcy into his arms and kissed her temple.

“What?” She shrugged. “I’m serious. I told you so.”

He was so happy his daughter understood how important it was to laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr](http://shallcallhimsquishy.tumblr.com) and maybe leave me prompts?


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